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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29016048">a thousand sweet kisses</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/potato_writes/pseuds/potato_writes'>potato_writes</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>A Song of Ice and Fire &amp; Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Drabble Collection, F/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 13:15:09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,630</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29016048</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/potato_writes/pseuds/potato_writes</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>a collection of Tumblr fic memes and other small ficlets that'll never go anywhere</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>35</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>75</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Holding hands, bathroom, stubbornness</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I don't get a lot of prompts over on <a href="https://www.tumblr.com/blog/potatothecat">Tumblr</a> but I had a couple hidden way back on my blog and wanted to be able to find them again, hence this collection. also sometimes I want to write short versions of long ideas so I don't need to worry about fleshing them out more, and those'll be stuck in here as well. once this has more than ten chapters I'll add an index at the beginning or something like that so things are easier to find.</p><p>the overall title of this collection comes from rent, in case you were curious.</p>
    </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>ajoblotofjunk requested A5: Holding Hands B1: Bathroom C14: Stubbornnes for a long-ago prompt meme I can't be bothered to track down now, and this ended up being the extremely fluffy result!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Brienne sighs heavily when she reaches the bathroom door and Jaime’s grip on her hand remains as firm as ever. His clinginess can often be endearing, particularly early in their friendship when she was still uncertain about her place in his life. Now that they’ve made the shift to something <i>more</i>, it’s reassuring to have him grab hold of her and refuse to let go when her insecurities begin acting up or on late nights when she doesn’t really want to leave his apartment and return to her own. </p><p>When he’s following her to the bathroom because he won’t let go of her hand, however, is an entirely different story. It’s still too early in their whatever-this-is—she won’t say they’re dating, not yet—for her to be comfortable sharing a bathroom with him, or even sharing a bed for anything more than sleep. She’s known Jaime for long enough to understand exactly <i>why</i> he’s constantly in need of affection, but she also needs to draw a line somewhere or she’ll never be rid of him.</p><p>Not that she wants him gone, of course. It’s just that there are times she’d rather have privacy, and currently this is one of them.</p><p>Jaime frowns at her as she stops outside the door and turns to him, though he still keeps their hands joined. She sends a meaningful glance at their linked hands, and he merely raises an eyebrow in response.</p><p>Fine. She’ll do this the hard way then.</p><p>“Jaime,’ she tells him as firmly as possible, squeezing his hand before trying to extricate hers from the tangle of their fingers. His grip tightens immediately, preventing her from letting go. “I really need my hand back right now, okay?”</p><p>He smiles at her, one of his slow arrogant grins that used to make her want to punch his perfect face as hard as she possibly could. “Why? Surely you don’t need it that badly.”</p><p>“Jaime,” she scolds again, fruitlessly attempting to wriggle her hand free once more. “C’mon. I’ll only be five minutes at most, and then I’ll join you again.”</p><p>Jaime’s only response is to start swinging their joined hands back and forth as he looks up at her with near-childlike glee on his face. For a moment, she’s tempted to give up the fight and let him join her despite the uncertainties that still plague her when she thinks too hard about what their relationship is becoming. But she can’t always let Jaime win, no matter how tempting it is when he looks at her like that, as if he’s never been happier simply because she’s by his side.</p><p>“Please let go, Jaime,” she says, reaching out with her free hand to cover their joined ones. “I know you don’t want to, but I’d like to maintain my privacy for a while longer and I can’t do that while also holding your hand. I promise you I’ll hold your hand for as long as you want afterwards once I’m done.”</p><p>Maybe she shouldn’t have phrased it like that, because immediately Jaime’s eyes light up with that mischievous glint that tells her he’s about to suggest something she won’t want to hear. “As long as I want?” he asks, the faintest hint of a smirk on his lips.</p><p>She sighs again, fighting to keep the corners of her mouth from quirking upwards. He’s incorrigible, but she lo—cares deeply for him anyways. “Yes, Jaime,” she replies, a defeated note in her tone. “As long as you want.”</p><p>At that, he smiles, brighter than the sun itself, and Brienne gets that warm feeling in her chest again, the same one she’s been experiencing ever since that first evening when he asked her, tentative but hopeful, if their latest meal together could count as a date. “Does forever sound good to you, then?”</p><p>She groans loudly and he laughs before stepping back and finally releasing her hand. “I knew you were going to say that, you sappy fool,” she grumbles as she opens the bathroom door and snatches her hand back when Jaime makes another grab for it. “And I don’t know how well forever will work in practice. We do have jobs to do, after all.”</p><p>“You didn’t say no to it in <i>theory</i>,” Jaime shouts as he stands in the hallway, and she slams the door between them in order to hide her widening grin. No, she didn’t say no to it in theory. The idea of forever may be another one of his far-fetched schemes, but in truth she wouldn’t mind the idea of forever, as long as he stays here right by her side.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. POV for they say we are asleep</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>seethemflying requested an alternate POV on Tumblr, so here's a snippet from chapter 7 of my fic they say we are asleep until we fall in love from Hyle's POV!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>In retrospect, he’ll find the whole matter vastly amusing. But at the time, it’s a rather terrifying affair, and certainly not what he’d hoped would take place when he’d urged Cersei Baratheon to invite her brother to join the pair of them and Loras Tyrell on their visit to the club.</p>
<p>Jaime Lannister clearly has no desire to be there with them as he half-lounges, half-slumps in his seat across the table, staring morosely into what might be his fourth or fifth drink of the night. Hyle had tried, he won’t let it be said that he did not, but it seems the golden Lannister prince—less golden now that he’s short a hand and a sense of humour–has no desire to be drawn into conversation with any of them.</p>
<p>Mentioning their mutual acquaintance of Countess Brienne Tarth had only resulted in him getting snapped at, and daring to bring up the war had set both Lannister and Loras against him until he’d had no choice but to drop the matter. Cersei has been no help, too engaged in flirting with whatever man she could catch the eye of for more than a few minutes, and he’s beginning to wonder if this evening would have been better spent at home after Cersei snaps at him for mentioning her similarities to her husband.</p>
<p>But then Loras turns to Lannister and taunts him about his ‘retirement’ with a sneering grin, which manages to engage Lannister’s attention for the first time all night as he demands the Tyrell count elaborate on his words, and Hyle’s ears perk up at the threat of…something lurking in Lannister’s voice.</p>
<p>“Nothing good can come of this,” Cersei mutters next to him, correct for once as their two companions exchange barbs, or rather Loras sends sneering insults towards Lannister who continues to seethe opposite him. “Nothing at all.”</p>
<p>She’s proven right a moment later, when Lannister shoots to his feet with a roar of fury that manages to silence the entire club, looking every inch the lion he once was as he demands that Loras match his words with guns.</p>
<p>He hadn’t initially expected the night to end in a duel, and he’s not fully certain he welcomes this change of entertainment, no matter how exciting it might be to watch one of these two snarling men to knock the other off their pedestal at long last.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. war/rebellion au</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>listen. I do not know what this au is. it could be continuing my grand tradition of vaguely sci-fi aus that aren't actually inspired by sci-fi at all. it could be an extremely confusing modern au. all I know is that it exists, and I'm actually very fond of it despite not having the time to flesh it out into a full fic right now. if I'm lucky, that'll happen at some point in the future. I have a lot of thoughts about this one.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Later, Brienne will think she should have expected the summons.</p><p>She’s made a reputation for herself as one of the fiercest fighters in this never-ending war, unafraid to take on the worst opponents when everyone else is running away terrified. She <i>fought the fucking Mountain</i>, and although she did not win, she didn’t lose either, and neither she nor any of those who witnessed that battle have forgotten it.</p><p>It’s left her with a legacy she didn’t expect, a trail of whispers—<i>is she a mercenary, how do we convince her to stay on our side, who trained her and how do I congratulate them</i>—following her wherever she goes. The longer the fighting continues, the more her services are needed, and the louder the murmurs get. It was only a matter of time before they reached the ears of one leader or another and someone came for her at last.</p><p>But she’s still surprised when they arrive at the inn deep within the Riverlands, clad in deep blue uniforms with the silver band that signifies they’re the rebel side of the war, the side she tolerates just enough to agree to come with them. To their credit, none of them raise their guns, not towards her or the handful of other people in the inn—smallfolk simply trying to survive in a world where nothing is guaranteed. But they watch her with wary eyes on the journey to wherever-the-fuck it is they’re taking her, and she is more than happy to return the sentiment, sitting curled up beside the fire in their nightly shelters and refusing to acknowledge any of her captors—if they can be called that, they have allowed her to keep her weapons and done nothing to prevent her from leaving beyond the constant watching.</p><p>In the third week of their journey, a party of King’s Men pass them by, soldiers from the side of the war she still curses every time she thinks of her island, of her father and brother and so many others who no longer live because of <i>him,</i> Tywin Lannister, who calls himself a righteous man even as he sends his troops out to kill and kill and kill again. Her group hides just in time, and they crouch in the bushes watching, waiting.</p><p>The King’s Men are led by a golden man, tall and handsome and proud, scanning the area with the precise gaze of someone who’s been a soldier all his life. But when he looks in her direction, his eyes are hollow, dead, with no emotion behind them, and a shiver runs down her spine at the sight.</p><p>Never before has she seen someone with so little life in them.</p><p>She tries not to think about it after that, pretends her dreams aren’t haunted by dull green eyes and golden skin from that day onward. It’s hard to keep up the illusion when they finally arrive at their destination, however, and are greeted by a young woman who could be that man’s mirror image—except her eyes are alive, sparking with anger and pain and disdain all at once as she looks Brienne over and mutters some snide comment about how she hopes Brienne’s looks aren’t an indication of her skills as a fighter.</p><p>Brienne ignores her, well accustomed to the cutting things people say to pretend they’re not hurting by now, and follows the young woman into another room, dimly lit and empty but for a long oval table and a few chairs situated around it. The chair at the head of the table is occupied by a figure hidden beneath a long black cloak—the mysterious leader of the rebellion, who guides half the war with a shadowy hand and is hated more than any other by the monster masquerading as a man who leads the other side.</p><p>The young woman slips out of the room, sending one last glance Brienne’s way with something almost <i>hopeful</i> flickering in her eyes, and then she is alone with the rebel leader no one has met and everyone fears, a cloaked figure rising to their feet and turning to face her, their hands rising to their hood and tugging it down in slow, steady motions.</p><p>She’s oddly startled to see the rebel leader is a woman, with golden hair fading into grey, deep lines around the corners of her eyes, and a piercing green gaze so reminiscent of the man in the forest that Brienne can hardly breathe for a moment. The rebel leader studies her for a long moment, and then gestures for Brienne to sit, pacing silently back to her chair and watching with narrowed eyes as she treads over and takes a seat.</p><p>“You are Brienne Tarth,” the leader murmurs at last, one brow arching as she looks Brienne up and down in the same manner as the young woman outside had, but without the derision lurking in the back of her gaze. “It’s a pleasure to meet you at long last.”</p><p>Brienne bows her head, reluctant to speak further but needing to ask, needing to know <i>why</i>. She’s avoided choosing sides throughout everything by naming both corrupt and cruel, dedicating her life to protecting the smallfolk over the petty bastards fighting for power or justice or whatever it is they’re claiming makes their cause a worthy one. But this woman wouldn’t let her continue along that path, and if her reasons are poor ones then Brienne must know that now, rather than later.</p><p>“Why did you bring me here?” she demands, blunt and pointed, and the leader smiles, half-sad and half-delighted. </p><p>“My name is Joanna Lannister,” she tells Brienne, whose heart has gone still in her chest. “The king’s armies are led by my cousin, who has always been as cruel as you know him to be. Believe me when I say I am not on his side, not after what he did.”</p><p>“What did he do?” Brienne asks, because she has been cursed with insatiable curiosity, and because she is desperate to know what Tywin Lannister might have done to anger his cousin to the point where she would choose to wage war with him over it. “Is it why you’re fighting him?”</p><p>“Only in part,” Joanna says grimly, steepling her hands in front of her and blinking slowly before meeting Brienne’s gaze again. “In truth, I fight him because I know better than most how cruel he is, what horrible things he can do if left unchecked. But I called you here because he took something from me, long ago, and I have never forgiven him for it.”</p><p>For a moment, Brienne thinks of the man in the forest, who had looked so similar to the rebel leader now studying Brienne with agony in her eyes. “You want me to get it back,” she whispers, and Joanna nods, her eyes burning with a fire the man had lacked.</p><p>“I had two children. Twins, a daughter and a son. My daughter, Cersei, you met her earlier. She is...not kind, but she is clever, and she will do very well for herself should the war ever end.” Joanna pauses, breathes in deeply, and a rock lodges in Brienne’s stomach, because she <i>knows</i> what Joanna is going to say next.</p><p>“He took my son from me,” Joanna hisses, and now she is ablaze with fury, holding herself stiff and still across the table. “<i>I want my son back</i>. And, should you agree, I want you to bring him back to me.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Jaime and Cersei aren't Tywin's children in this au, and Tyrion doesn't exist. there are reasons for all these things, but I won't be explaining them now. </p><p>in the full version of this au that doesn't exist, brienne agrees to find jaime and bring him back home. there's a lot of other complicated stuff that happens around all that as well, but I don't have the capacity to write that at present so this is all we're getting.</p><p>I might be adding a lot of short snippets to this collection over the next few days. I'm in a bit of a funk right now and my current wips are fun, but very draining to work on when I'm already emotionally fragile. hopefully this will get me back in the groove and make things a bit better, because it's been a Month.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. you talk, she talks (it's not about the conversation)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>i was listening to Haled's Song About Love from The Band's Visit and for some reason this particular line in the title caught me, so i wrote a short little snippet about it.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Brienne’s rambling again, telling him about the movie she’d watched when she went out with Sansa and Margaery last night, her words pouring out of her in a great rush, her eyes alight with joy and enthusiasm. Jaime sits back in his chair and smiles at her, watching her gesture, wide and excited and a little bit clumsy, hanging on to her every word.</p><p>He only understands maybe half of what she’s saying, her speech filled with technical terms about the effects and the storyline and the acting he could never hope to comprehend, but she’s so <i>delighted</i> by all this, her enthusiasm enough to spill out of her and fill the room with light, and he wants her to keep going like this forever, none of her customary reticence coming forward to stem the flow of words and dim the light of her joy.</p><p>There’s a moment when she stumbles, her brilliant eyes faltering, and she presses a hand to her mouth as she glances over at him, her gaze lowering. “I’m sorry,” she mumbles, and he frowns, leaning forward. “You probably don’t care about any of this.”</p><p>“No, no,” he counters immediately, shaking his head. He <i>doesn’t</i> care, has never been fascinated by the technical side of filmmaking like she is, but she has so much <i>love</i> for it. What kind of monster would he be if he tried to dim her light, snuff out the joy discussing this brings her? “Keep going. I love hearing you talk about this.”</p><p>She smiles again, her cheeks flushing, and the light returns to the room as she starts up again, and Jaime tucks his fist under his chin and watches her, his heart expanding in his chest, overflowing with contentment at the sight of her relaxed and eager and <i>happy.</i></p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. mountain duet</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>this is a snippet from a longer au i'll never write based on the musical Chess, which portrays Soviet and American chess players fighting via their game at the height of the Cold War. in this au, Brienne is Florence, second to the American player Freddie whose role is being taken on by Gendry in this au for Reasons. Jaime is Anatoly, the Soviet chess player that falls for Florence (and later turns out to be a bit of an asshole, which is why the full version of this au will never exist).</p><p>anyways. i could talk about Chess for a long time, but we're sticking with this scene, representing the song Mountain Duet. after a disastrous chess game between Gendry and Jaime that ends with Gendry flinging the board and storming out, and a tense meeting between Brienne, Jaime, arbiter Stannis Baratheon, and Jaime's second Tyrion, Jaime and Brienne (and, supposedly, Gendry) meet at a mountaintop inn to discuss how the tournament shall proceed...</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Brienne arrives at the mountaintop inn well before Gendry does, having left him in deep conversation with Renly at their hotel. Jaime Lannister—<i>our opponent,</i> she reminds herself—is already there, a glass gripped loosely in his single hand as he gazes out the window, painted in the red and gold of his homeland by the setting sun. For a moment, she pauses, drinks him in, until she remembers why she’s here and takes two steps forward, shaking off the spell that had settled over her.</p><p>Lannister turns almost immediately, alerted by her heels clicking against the stone floor. His shoulders are set, tense, but his expression eases when he sees her, something she’d almost call a smile flitting across his lips. </p><p>“Ms. Tarth,” he murmurs, bowing his head and setting his glass aside. “Is your player going to join us soon?”</p><p>“Mr. Waters will be here shortly,” she tells him firmly, though in truth she’s not quite sure, and she’s not certain she cares to know either. She hasn’t forgotten their argument after the game, nor has she forgotten the hundred other little things he’s spat at her in anger in prior years. “He just...he said he’d prefer to walk. He doesn’t like cable cars, you see…”</p><p>She trails off uselessly, unable to lie any further. Gendry had told her nothing, and she doesn’t really know if he even intends to show up after his clash with Lannister in the game earlier. And it’s hard to come up with some excuse when Lannister is <i>right there,</i> gazing at her with something far too knowing in his green eyes, the same eyes that had shone with such sincerity when he’d complimented her talents in the meeting with Renly and Tyrion Lannister.</p><p>“It’s no matter,” Lannister says abruptly, striding towards her and stopping just short of an improper distance away. “I didn’t have much desire to see him anyways. I’m much more interested in talking to <i>you</i>.”</p><p>Brienne has no response to that—how could she? For all that he’s a Westerlander, Jaime Lannister <i>is</i> still the handsomest man she’s ever met, and he’s watching her with so much intensity that it’s easy to forget her job, her responsibility to Gendry and her own country, the Stormlands she loves so dearly.</p><p>“Why?” she finally asks, breathless, her heart pounding louder than it ever has in her ears. “I’m only a second, the one everyone forgets is standing in the background.”</p><p>“I’m not everyone,” he whispers, and then he’s right beside her, lifting his head so he can speak directly into her ear. “You’re a fascinating woman, Brienne Tarth. Forgive me if I can’t help but notice you, even when you think no one should.”</p><p>She turns towards him but doesn’t draw back, even when his eyes darken and his gaze falls to her lips. “If you’re trying to tempt me from my country…”</p><p>“No!” he cries, before stepping back, leaving her cold, bereft of the warmth emanating from his very being. “I would never; I understand country loyalty as well as you do. I simply…”</p><p>It’s his turn to trail off, a faint blush colouring his cheeks, and it’s then that Brienne makes her decision. <i>Fuck Gendry. Fuck the game, the tournament, the deal.</i> </p><p>“You simply what?” she asks, her voice dropping low, heated, and Lannister—<i>Jaime</i>—looks back up at her, something stirring in his eyes…</p><p>—And then someone clears their throat behind her, loudly, and she spins around to see Gendry standing there, glaring fiercely at them both, his arms folded over his chest.</p><p>“Well,” he snaps, far too loudly in the quiet foyer. “Isn’t this interesting? Are you falling into bed with the enemy or are you negotiating a deal, Brienne?” </p><p>Jaime’s hand touches her arm, gentle and steadying, and Gendry’s gaze turns even darker. Despite the warm presence at her back, Brienne’s heart plummets, and she knows, in the deepest part of herself, that what’s just happened here has irrevocably changed everything, that from this moment on she will never be able to go back to the way things were before.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>i really don't want a Chess au to exist, but apparently my stupid brain does, which is why i wrote this. hopefully i will be free of it now. that would be ideal, wouldn't it.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. how long?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>i was left unsupervised while deep in my hadestown feelings and this is what happened. there's a couple versions of the specific song that inspired this, but they're both so incredible i have to link them both: <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qXsl3G0ujl4">from the concept album</a>, featuring Ani DiFranco and Greg Brown, and <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Bim5CXHgy3s">from the Broadway show</a>, featuring Amber Gray and Patrick Page. also do not ask me what the setting for this fic is because i legitimately have no idea.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>She finds her husband in the westernmost wing, staring out the window at the endless drop down into the sea. </p><p>The distance between them is as insurmountable as ever, and yet for the first time she does not shy away from it, seeking out an opponent in the yard or riding until the wind has swept all reminders of the thing they no longer have away from her. There is a thread, now, thin and half-frayed, but it is <i>there</i>, and it is with that in mind that she reaches out across the gap after years of pretending nothing has changed even when everything is different.</p><p>“You didn’t kill the boy,” she says, remembering earlier in the hall, how Jaime had paused, looked back at her, and let the pickpocket walk away. She is so rarely in the hall with him anymore; she had wondered if he were his father’s reflection in every way, now, and has not dared to join him there since. </p><p>“You thought I would,” he says, not turning to face her. His words are cold, sharp, meant to cut and keep that distance between them. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised that you think the worst of me in every regard now.”</p><p>There is much she could say to that—<i>you let me believe those lies, what happened to us, don’t pretend you played no role in that</i>—but the words shrivel and die on the tip of her tongue. Years of anger and bitterness and hurt lie in the space between them, only a few paces yet also a thousand leagues, and for all her skill with the sword she lacks the ability to say what she means, or to pick out the words that might let them bridge this gap at long last.</p><p>“I didn’t—<i>Jaime</i>,” she says uselessly, but he looks towards her at that, and she could swear he is almost smiling. “You know that isn’t true.”</p><p>“Do I?” he asks, and this is where his voice should rise in volume, where he should grow angry and shout at her and send her away as he always does, but the words are…<i>sad</i>, this time, his shoulders slumped as if all the fight has bled out of them. “I begin to wonder if I know anything about you anymore, Brienne.”</p><p>The bitterness stirs again at that, but dies quickly, because he is right. They hardly know each other anymore, and the distance between them is all too much evidence of that fact. But gods, how she wishes she could cross over, ignoring the fragile rock and the chasm between them and remember how they once were, young and happy and unaware the world could take such joy and twist it into <i>this</i>.</p><p>She opens her mouth, but before she can speak he interrupts, his voice brittle and shaking as he turns to fully face her. “I am afraid,” he murmurs, his green gaze burning into hers, and for the first time in years he looks like the man she married. “Every day you slip further away from me, and I cannot think of any way to keep you with me.”</p><p>“I am not some bird you can keep in a cage,” she reminds him, and it is her turn to ward the other off with harsh words and anger rearing up inside her. But he merely smiles, despondent and distant, and a part of her she thought long dead stirs, wanting to stride across that empty space between them and pull him close.</p><p>“I know,” he says quietly, and for a long moment they gaze at each other, divided by the floor between them and a gaping wound so deep it has slowly been bleeding out for years. And yet, in those silent beats before she turns and leaves once again, there is a shift, a slow mending of something she’d long thought torn apart forever, and for the first time in far too many years she has <i>hope</i> in her heart upon leaving her husband behind.</p>
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<a name="section0007"><h2>7. i wish you would write an au inspired by your favourite book</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>for the 'i wish you would write...' meme on tumblr, anon asked me about an au based on my favourite book that reminded me of a YA fantasy series i used to ADORE but haven't gone back to in years. i ended up with a surprisingly long snippet of that au, which i refuse to write more of because i have too many ideas already.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The people of Tarth gather outside the palace with sullen expressions, staring up at the balcony where the conquering king stands, his favoured guard on one side and his son on the other. Princess Brienne, the sole surviving member of Tarth’s royal family, lingers in the shadows beside the son until another guard shoves her forward. Prince Jaime glances her way as his father begins to speak, his hand beginning to lift as if to beckon her closer, but she refuses to look towards him, lifting her head and staring straight out at <i>her</i> people as they watch King Tywin’s speech.</p><p>She will not acknowledge the Lannisters more than she has to, not after they have taken so much from her and kept her prisoner in her own home. And she <i>especially</i> intends to ignore Prince Jaime, the memory of his sword buried in Galladon’s heart still all too clear in her mind.</p><p>The king’s words are filled with useless platitudes, a promise that despite the usurpers now sitting the throne, little will change on Tarth—a lie, and an all too obvious one, for things are already so different. Her father and brother are dead, and Evenfall is draped in red-and-gold banners, and she is left alone to find some way to reclaim her kingdom, even if it seems impossible.</p><p>But King Tywin is determined to make her life as difficult as possible, because he gestures for her to step closer—a command she cannot ignore, not if she wants to keep her life—until she and Prince Jaime stand side by side, putting her far too close to the man responsible for her brother’s death. </p><p>“To prove to you my honesty,” the king says, his voice echoing over the silent crowd, “and to demonstrate that your beloved princess is safe under my protection, I have betrothed my son, Prince Jaime, to Princess Brienne.”</p><p>She pales at his proclamation, the only comfort being that Prince Jaime stiffens beside her, turning to face his father with an incredulous expression. At least she is not the only one blindsided by this turn of events, though it is not enough to calm her heart as it begins to pound. A marriage to Prince Jaime...how is she supposed to survive that?</p><p>The king moves to stand behind her and Prince Jaime then, his hands settling on both their shoulders, ignoring how his son leans away from his touch and Brienne freezes in place. “It is my pleasure,” he continues, “to welcome this delightful young woman to my family and forge a connection between our kingdoms that will last for generations.”</p><p>The crowd remains silent as he joins their hands, uncaring of how Brienne tries to pull away from both Lannisters. For a moment the king’s cool smile drops and he glowers at those observing from below, but the people of Tarth are not fools, and they can clearly see the discomfort of both their princess and Prince Jaime, and for that, at least, Brienne is grateful.</p><p>“Smile, princess,” Prince Jaime hisses through gritted teeth once his father steps away. “We wouldn’t want the people to think you despise your <i>beloved</i> betrothed.”</p><p>She does not deign that statement with a response.</p>
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